Creating a Spark
by avocadoenthusiast00
Summary: Harry met Reborn when he was nine and ignored by the world. Reborn disregarded the kid in the cupboard since he's seen much worse in the mafia. However, years passed and Harry's taking a vacation in Japan, when he saw the same charcoal eyes in an infant and a teenager who's the heir to the Vongola throne. Wait, what?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter and Amano Akria owns Katekyo Hitman Reborn!**

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><p>By the time Harry Potter was nine, he learned three important lessons when it came to family.<p>

One: Despite what everyone says, every family has their own form of secrets.

And to his aunt and uncle, he was the secret. He didn't know why, but they took to extreme efforts to make sure that nobody knew about him, the real him. To the neighbors, he was a pitiful child whose parents died in a car accident. His Aunt Petunia was a gracious family member and took him when no one else would. He was a rowdy and distrustful kid, who couldn't comprehend what was right or wrong. But to him, Harry was only a normal kid with a normal life - well, to a certain extent.

Two: Family will always be better than anything else, so don't question.

Harry learned that the hard way, living with people who thought they gave everything to him was pretty much a one way ticket to nothing.

"Pre-heat the oven to 163 degrees Celsius, with the meat and vegetables glazed with red wine." Pages flipped from a worn cookbook; a murmured curse left his aunt's horse-like lips.

He looked down at the small pieces of uneaten bread and cheese on his plate. Bits of mold covered the bread, while the cheese gave away an unwanted stench. Harry wanted to stop eating the rotten food, but Aunt Petunia told him to stop wasting her precious efforts in feeding him.

_I wonder when I'll get the time to make my wish_.

When Harry Potter turned five years old, he learned about the value of wishes from watching Dudley, as he asked for his own video game console. Since then, the lonely boy wished for a chance to meet his parents up in the skies. He dreamed of their wonderful smiles directed at him, their warm hugs encasing his entire body. It took awhile for him to imagine their faces - his dad with the wide grin and boisterous laugh, and his mom with the same shade of green eyes and blazing red hair. However, it was all for naught, like he knew every past year. He would watch the front door with a wistful gaze, his hands constantly fidgeting in his baggy trousers. Yet for some reason, Harry continued the tradition even after that momentous heart-breaking event.

_Should I ask Aunt Petunia?_

Aunt Petunia was rushing around the kitchen, pots and pans scattered everywhere. Her bony stature made her appear weak and fragile, as she carried the tray of assorted meats to the oven.

"Open the oven and help me! Don't be a selfish child." She ordered him.

For the few minutes, he juggled the plates and silverware to the table, a simple tablecloth already laid out. He arranged the seats with his minuscule strength, and prepared the dessert by mixing a batch of whip cream. As he stirred the egg whites with sugar, Harry couldn't help but take a small bite.

It has been awhile since he tried something sweet.

"Boy, go to your room, and stay there! Our guests are coming within a few minutes!" She ordered him, her finger pointed to the hallway, where his precious cupboard/room would be.

Harry looked up to the face of his shrewd aunt, as he wondered why she was dressed so nicely tonight.

_It's only a Tuesday; what's so special about tonight?_

Then, he wondered if he was going somewhere after the guests disappear to the living room, where there would be enough time for his uncle to drop him off at Aunt Marge's house with her bulldogs. There's also the nice woman next door with tons of cats, but he'd rather stay in his tiny room for the rest of the night. Both animals disliked his presence for some reason.

Three: You will always do well for the good of the family.

"Well?" Her voice, usually sharp and high-pitched, was weary and tired. A single curl came out of her tight bun and she sighed in exasperation.

He blinked once and nodded in response to her question. Harry shuffled to the hallway entrance, his wrinkled shirt occasionally slipping from his shoulder.

Dudley, who was sitting in front of the television, started to laugh. His tuxedo was tight on his body, which was already stained with chocolate syrup and other condiments, looked as if it was going to tear under his cousin's excess weight.

"I'm gonna get cake, and you're not!" Harry wanted to retort he didn't care, Dudley kept on talking.

"Freak, are you jealous yet? All of Dad's guests are gonna see how disgusting and lonely you are!" He taunted, his beady eyes twinkled in malicious delight. Dudley seemed to learn very well under Uncle Vernon's tutelage, despite how poorly he's doing in primary school.

"Mum, he's staring at me weirdly! Make him stop!" Dudley screeched, finally realizing that nothing bothered him, and switched to another option: lying.

It worked; Aunt Petunia rushed from the stove dragging Harry through the white door.

"I told you to go to your room, you disobedient boy! Why were you bothering little Duddy-kins?!" Her voice echoed in his mind, irritating him.

_Did Dudley get his voice from her?_

_He looks like a pig__._ Harry watched the door closed with a last snap._ I hope the guests realize that too._

Shuffling footsteps indicated his horse-like aunt was gone.

He crawled to the corner of the cupboard, his thin hands touching arbitrary spider webs. He looked back to the shut door, sat with his knees under his chin, and closed his eyes.

Darkness overwhelmed his vision, amplifying his hearing. He listened to his slow breathing, the subtle creaks in the house, and the near silent crawls of the insects near him. But, he didn't bother for all those in favor of the warm feeling that was slowly creeping in his veins. It started from his abdomen, then traveled all around.

The steady warmth was like a pulse, spreading the pleasant feeling at a steady rhythm. Harry loved it, mentally caressing it as if it was a pet.

_Family pales in comparison to this._

He didn't mind that he preferred this foreign warmth compared to family. Harry craved the affection it gave to him, covering him from the cold interactions of his aunt and uncle.

The warmth started to purr, just like a small kitten, and he grinned from the subconscious of his mind.

**_Ding~_**

It's the guests. Harry blinked from the sudden sound, his 'pet' suddenly disappeared from his arms.

"Evening gentlemen, please step in." Aunt Petunia welcomed them inside the house. A cold breeze entered along, giving Harry a minor chill.

"Good evening madame, it is a pleasure to meet you in person." A baritone voice spoke from the far end of the hallway. Harry opened his eyes and sneakily looked through the narrow spaces of his window.

Two gentlemen, followed by his uncle, dressed in expensive formal. Both looked handsome and young, with placid smiles plastered on their faces. One had weird curled sideburns, covered with an orange-striped fedora, and the other with bright blond hair.

Harry could hear his aunt give a tiny gasp of surprise. He imagined a noticeable blush on Aunt Petunia's face, with her suddenly becoming a shy woman. _She's probably awed by their looks._

"It is a pleasure of mine as well. I hope the flight from Italy was comfortable." His aunt attempted to initiate a chat, her hands wiping against her waist apron.

"It was, thank you very much."

"May I take your hats sirs?" Dudley's nasal voice entered the conversation.

"Ah, thank you son," a higher pitched voice spoke, probably the other man, as rustles of clothing were heard.

Then, footsteps became louder and Harry shuffled back to the corner.

**_Bring~_**

"My apologies, but I'd have to take this." The baritone voice spoke, while Uncle Vernon nervously nodded.

The sideburns man stepped outside; his uncle gave a deep relieved sigh.

_HAH! Uncle Vernon's scared of him_.

It became clearer for him to view the entire show. The blonde man followed Aunt Petunia to the dining room, while Dudley waddled in front of him. His uncle was the last person, but stopped in front of his door.

The same beady eyes bored at Harry's emerald ones. "If I find any foolishness going on, I promise that you'll never see the sun until I see fit."

"Yes sir," Harry replied and Uncle Vernon ruffled his moustache.

"Good," and off he went to the dining room; his waist coat stretched over unattractive parts of his body.

Silence occupied the house once more before Harry returned to his session. He waited for his pet to return, yet felt an eerie presence in front of him.

Opening his eyes, he saw the first man observing from the outside. His charcoal eyes glinted in the dim settings of his cupboard, and Harry noted there was a small lizard peeking from the side of the fedora.

"Well, aren't you a small fellow?" The man asked, a placid yet fake smile on his smooth face. He was more handsome up close; his spiked hair hidden under the hat, and sharp features.

"What are you doing here instead of out there?" Another question came out of his lips. Harry didn't say anything in hopes that the man will just leave out of boredom .

"No response, tough kid you are."

Harry shuffled until he felt the corner of his cot. The staring match ensued until he heard the sound of a champagne bottle opening.

"Who are you?" His voice sounded hoarse, probably from the disuse over the days.

"Me?" The man's smile turned to a confident smirk. "Let's just say, I'm a friend of your relative's."

"Oh," Harry responded, his left hand smoothed out the covers of his bed, touching the edge rather quickly. Without noticing, he scratched himself with a nearby splinter.

"Ouch."

"Does that hurt?" The baritone voice didn't leave and the glinting eyes focused on the injury, where a droplet of blood trailed down Harry's finger.

He shook his head. He didn't want any sort of attention to himself. Though, it's a bit too late for that.

The man from outside chuckled, "Why don't you bring it over here? I'll heal it for you."

Harry raised an eyebrow. I don't think you can do that.

"I don't do this for anyone, you know." Harry slowly approached the man and brought his finger to him. By then, his finger was covered with several thin trails of dark blood.

"Wow, you're pretty fragile." The man noted, reaching out Harry's with his own.

And then, it happened.

A spark appeared from the man's palm, followed by a swirl of yellow flames.

Harry jerked back, but his hand was firmly held.

The flames were bright yellow, very different from the custom red Harry always saw on television. It swirled around in circles, leaving a sense of tiny needles on his finger. However, for some bizarre reason, the cut healed rapidly at an abnormal rate. Then, it disappeared, no wisp of smoke or scent of burning objects.

"How did that-"

"Let's just say it's magic, kid."

"Wait, what's your name?" His voice suddenly got louder, and in shock covered his mouth with his healed appendage.

"Name? Hm, why don't you just call me Reborn?" The newly named Reborn asked Harry. "Now, don't you want to get out of that cupboard?"

"Um," Harry looked over to the right, where you could hear a rouse of conversation. "I'd rather not; I think Aunt Petunia would be really upset."

"If you're sure," Reborn shrugged his shoulders and with a final wave, entered the kitchen.

He watched the dark corner for the remaining hours of the dinner. He couldn't wrap around the scene he met. Since then, false laughs and clashing forks and knives filled the house. Gruff and smooth voices talked of several dealings for Uncle Vernon's drilling company. The smell of coq-au-vin infiltrated the hallways; his stomach grumbling at the delicious scent. For Harry, it seemed like a couple of hours before it was finally over.

The two gentlemen arrived first, Reborn, who somehow mysteriously healed him, matched eyes. He gave a little nod and smirk before heading on to the door.

Before the two men left the residence, final evening exchanges were made.

"Aren't you happy Vernon? You're a step ahead of your other co-workers!" Aunt Petunia led a sleepy Dudley to the stairs, not once looking at the cupboard.

"Of course, that Vongola contract is essential to my boss. If I could seal the deal, then I'll finally get that promotion I rightfully deserve." Vernon boasted, an arrogant laugh slipped from his lips. He followed his wife and son up the second floor, where he could finally dream of the achievements and riches he'll bring to himself.

Dust floated in Harry's space, as each step on the stairs brought them down.

Once the moon rose up to the skies, its light illuminating the narrow hallway, Harry finally closed his eyes. Deep even breaths filled the empty silence and his feeble chest rising at a steady tempo. It would finally look like the residents of the Privet Drive 4 would fall asleep with the rest of the other neighbors.

But, if someone was to go through Harry Potter's mind, they would see the flames he saw earlier. The dashing man, named Reborn, who controlled those wild flames so easily. Yellow dancing embers seeping through the window bars and covering his head. A smirk brightened by the flickering fire and warmth, before being enveloped by a feeling of sleepiness.

By then, Harry Potter added another lesson to his small repertoire.

_Four: Strangers are a lot friendlier than family._

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><p><strong><em>AN: Hi guys, this is my first attempt at a fanfic. So, please don't try and cringe at my bad writing skills. I have enough of that in my literature class. But, I have been reading these two series for awhile and several other stories on this website. I'm interested by their ideas, though all of them seem to be "clich**é"?**_**

**_**Anyways, this wasn't edited by a professional, so bear with me. Thank you! **_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns Harry Potter and Amano Akira has Katekyo Hitman Reborn!**

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><p>Spending time in the backyard during a summer afternoon sounds enjoyable. You drink a glass of cool lemonade while sitting under the shade of a mature oak tree. With a large sip from your beverage, you stare at the cerulean sky, and wonder if anything can get better than this. Well, at least that's what Harry thought, as he wiped the sweat from his forehead, and stared at his hard work on the gardens. Tulips were planted on the side, arranged nicely with the hydrangeas.<p>

_'Yeah, that's what I want to do.' _He took off his gloves and tiredly walked to the cooler part of the backyard. The shade of several bushes covered him quite nicely and Harry lied on the ground ungracefully, happily smiling when a fresh breeze passed by. The temperature was steadily rising in Surrey and his relatives were all away on their own businesses, but Harry was stuck with a list of arduous chores. They were annoying and uncomfortable for the scrawny child to complete everything under the time limit that his aunt set up for him. So, he decided while lying on the bed of grass to stop for the day. And it was that steaming July day when Harry decided to recreate those wonderful flames for his own. But it was probably not the best time to start, since he was a "dangerous" boy in the eyes of his neighborhood.

It was really obvious when the housewives, who had no lives of their own, often gossiped with Aunt Petunia about the mischievous escapades he committed for the past few months in school. Mrs. Collins and Mrs. Barrons had surprisingly informative details of his adventures on the roof during recess and the times he dyed his teacher's hair blue because of minor disagreements. Often at times, Harry could hear his aunt complain to Uncle Vernon when all of the housewives returned to their homes later at night.

However, the conversations didn't bother Harry, who lived in an opinionated household for more than nine years. There was nothing much he could change since nobody would bother to stop by and listen to him anymore.

There were times when a random stranger would actually stop, Harry would tell them of how he became a common tool for the Dursleys to use every day. For so long, he was a gardener, housekeeper, and butler all rolled into one boy. With minimal amount of breaks, Harry would tell the strangers that his life wasn't exactly the perfect childhood scenario.

And no, they didn't physically abuse him with Uncle Vernon's enormous fists or a frying pan for him to comply with their demands. They're both too paranoid about the loud shouts from him because he could possibly attract unwanted attention. But, that didn't stop them from being neglectful or using their lovable son to stomp and push away any possible "rebellions" from him at home and at school.

Harry Hunting was always a great game for Dudley and his gang of misfits; it was a great method of stress relief and well - for Harry, it was great stamina training. Before that fateful night, the 'game' was just another painful block in his life. It was something to be considered as a learning curve for him to imagine, as one of the teachers would tell him whenever Harry reported it.

Now, this stranger would either be angry on his behalf or suspicious of how terrible the ordeal was. This was where Harry himself got confused, as the strangers would bring him to the police station, and report his problems. But somehow, he would always be sent back to Privet Drive 4 after a night or two. He could still remember the first time he attempted to do so.

**_He approached the friendly looking woman with her child across the sidewalk. Both persons didn't look like they were from Surrey, as they walked together with smiles on their faces._**

**_"Definitely does not belong here," Harry muttered and gathered the courage to walk the street, and tug on the lady's skirt. The mother looked down in confusion, but as she noticed his poor apparel and dirty condition, she immediately crouched down._**

**_"What's wrong dear? Are you lost?" He heard an American accent when she spoke and he mentally cheered. She didn't know of his "reputation" and he could use it to his advantage. _**

**_Putting on a classic pitiful face, Harry looked at the lady. "Um, I'm not lost. But, my uncle told me to get out of his house 'cause I'm not worth it." _**

**_He watched as the mother gripped her child tighter in an embrace and felt a stab of jealously. He wanted to have an affectionate touch from someone. But, he couldn't do it now; he was on a mission for his freedom. _**

**_"Don't worry, we'll get you to the nice officers, and see what they could do." The mother smiled at him. "My name's Theresa, what's yours?" _**

**_He gave her a tiny smile. "I'm Harry."_**

**_"And my name's Lauren," a toothy grin appeared on the daughter's face, brown curls framing her face. "Hiya!" _**

**_So forth, they walked to the nearest police station, with Theresa asking pointless questions to him. But for Harry, he couldn't keep his focus. He was finally going to be free from his relatives' negligence and abuse. _**

On that day, it all went wrong after that. He remembered what happened right after he came home from the station, as he overheard the neighbors that same night. The police reported his uncle and brought him to jail, putting down his information and case in the system. He was going to report to the courtroom for his sentence and everyone else would be sent somewhere else. But as the officers in charge were going to Privet Drive No. 4 for evidence, they completely forgot the reason and called off the case.

His uncle was sent free and Theresa didn't know who Harry was at all when he confronted her the next day. He was shocked and couldn't believe what was going on. The little Harry at the time thought all of the adults were playing a joke, but as he continued to try over and over. He noticed it wasn't a prank, but rather a serious problem for him. Everybody seemed to forget everything, except for those occasions, where freelance journalists would come by and publish stories in nearby newspapers after their visits. With that tiny hope, Harry would always try every year with new schemes created in his imaginative mind.

He wondered if his parents were ever like him, pulling off plans to run away from a stressful household. But, they probably weren't since they didn't have adults that dictated his life with sadistic glee.

Nevertheless, with all of these combined together, of course Harry was going to try to learn those flames that gave him so much happiness within such a short span of time. Yet, it was a difficult challenge for him to carry out due to the main fact that he didn't know how to even start.

He thought of several things that could start a fire, but could only come up with the heavy immobile stove and matches. A heavy stove that was attached to the wall would not give any benefits to the yearning Harry. Besides, stoves were machines, cold contraptions that couldn't possibly hold any kind of warmth he was searching for.

And, nobody would want to give a "delinquent" some matches, especially when Harry was also a kid as well. With all of the parents gesturing their children to stay away from the rebellious kid, he was pretty sure that he couldn't ask for a favor. All that was left was a last resort: stealing.

Along with creating these schemes to get rid of his relatives, he was able to maintain a somewhat healthy lifestyle by becoming a thief. Stealing became a habit when the negligence came into play. Often at times, when Harry was punished to his little room, his relatives forgot the tiny fact he was a human as well. From there, he decided and enact on the act of stealing. He stole multiple bags of crisps from his cousin, sweets from random children during lunch, and several fruits off the basket from the dining table.

So when Harry noted that one of the senior teachers taking a smoke one bright afternoon, it was pretty simple to sneak in the teacher's lounge later and dig in for a lighter or matches, and take off right away.

That was around two days ago and he still had the matches in his trouser pockets. He wasn't quite sure how he'll recreate the flames that Reborn possessed, but he believed it was now or never.

Harry sat down with his legs crossed over, and gently took out the match box. His hands were dirty from planting the hydrangeas without the gloves. His hands were trembling, as he broke the entire bunch from the case, and stored the majority in his pockets. Bringing only one, Harry brought it to eye-level, and then struck it against the flat side.

A sudden pop was heard and then a bright amber flame appeared. Harry watched it in wonder; it was so similar to the ones he saw that night. The flickering flame wavered, as a weak breeze pass by the neighborhood. Then, the match went out and Harry frowned at the quick departure.

"That was rather quick." Harry muttered and dug a little hole in the gardens. He dropped the burnt match and picked another one from his pockets. The second one was a bit rough, as the wooden part had a crack in the middle. "This one should still work."

He struck it once more and a fiery red tip appeared from the match. This time, Harry covered the flame with his hand, trying to preserve it as long as he could. The boy watched with a bit of awe; it was beautiful to see, creating this natural phenomenon by himself.

Harry didn't know how long he stayed in that stance. He was entranced by that single flame, watching it burn the wooden stick until it gradually became a nub. He was about to extinguish the match when he felt a sudden shake on his shoulders and turned around to see it was his aunt.

She looked furious, her nostrils flaring with "righteous anger", and hair flying all over the place. "What are you doing with that?!"

Harry couldn't insert a reply because Aunt Petunia kept on going.

"You have no manners, no common sense! You're off in your own world like a clueless freak!" Spittle covered his face, but Harry didn't dare to remove it in case that would enrage his aunt even more.

_Blah, the hag continues to nag for the sake of her own satisfaction._ His thoughts, or rather his subconscious, started the inward conversation; a rather mature and sarcastic voice that always distracted Harry from the "outside world".

"First, it was with Ms. Poppins and next the jumping accident on the roof during school!" His aunt dragged him inside, where the neighbors wouldn't look over their wooden fences, and enjoy the rather dramatic one-sided conversation.

_At least, she could stop referring to the incidents before today. It wasn't our fault_. The voice in his head continued to converse, creating counter arguments to each point Aunt Petunia made.

But, it wasn't his fault exactly when his teacher, Ms. Poppins decided to dye her hair an eccentric shade of blue.

_Yeah, she was picking on us just like Dudley_. The subconscious continued to rationalize his excuses, bringing back memories from the earlier seasons. It was rather painful to remember them, as most of the kids isolated him due to his adorable cousin.

He sighed, watching with dull eyes as his aunt continued to drag him down the hallway, and stopped where his room was. The door to the cupboard was worn-down and padded with locks. The paint was starting to peel off at the corners, but Harry was pretty sure Uncle Vernon would repaint it for appearances.

"You'll stay there until I find out if anybody was watching!" With a last round of flying spittle, she shut the door with a loud 'bang', allowing Harry to feel a brief breeze.

_That went well_. His subconscious brightly said, filling in the dark silence of his cupboard. _You still have the other matches in your pocket._

His hand moved to his trousers and inside his pockets, where he felt the smooth texture of the matches. They were all carved well and Harry wanted to experiment once more. Yet, he thought of the possible scenarios, including the idea that both of his relatives would actually raise a hand against him.

_But, it wouldn't matter. We're in an isolated cupboard. _His thoughts reasoned and Harry nodded in agreement.

Striking another one and another, Harry thought it was absolutely beautiful. It was maybe because of the shades of bright colors that made up this flame or the fact that it brightened the dark room; he loved it. It was a comfort, but a new start to an addiction, as he continued to litter the ground with burnt matches.

Suddenly, he stopped when he could only feel two matches left. He wanted to stop and patiently wait for the next day to come. He didn't want to lose the rest of these matches and look for more. However, the temptation was too much. He brought one more match and lit it.

But this time around, Aunt Petunia came to the hallway and pounded the door with her palms. She thought there was a suspicious light in the supposedly dark room and scowled at the ridiculous and strange _magic_ emitting from her nephew.

"STOP WITH YOUR FREAKISHNESS!"

In surprise, Harry dropped the match on the cot and watched his sleeping area go up in flames.

It started to spread, consuming several dust bunnies and blanket threads. From there, the cot caught on fire and Harry turned away from the fiery destruction. He could feel his calves burning from the intense heat, as he raced to the door.

He needed to get out of the cupboard; he felt his parts of his arms scorching from the blazing fire. Its ferocious heat brought damage to the walls and then his personal clothing, turning them into ashes. Harry could hear his heart racing, his pounding fists on the locked door, and the screams that came from the kitchen.

Rushing footsteps from there to the door was obvious to Harry, abandoned by his aunt.

'I don't know what to do now.' Harry thought, as he turned his body around, his back sliding down the door. The smoke he accidentally inhaled was starting to take an effect. His vision was starting to darken, the room swirling around in circles. His body was weak, he couldn't get the strength to start taking down the door once more.

'I don't wanna die.' Tears trailed down Harry's face. 'I just wanted to feel it again.'

He closed his eyes, his strength drained away to the point that he could only lean on the door. The flames came closer to where he was, consuming everything in its path.

'I don't wanna die. I don't wanna die.'

It was terrifyingly hot, the unbearable waves of heat becoming stronger.

'I don't wanna die!'

Suddenly, Harry felt a stir in his chest, wild energy swirling in his abdomen, and up his body. His thoughts cleared, empowered by the increasing strength.

'I DON'T WANNA DIE!'

A motive stood out, his mind driven on that one goal to survive. His mind centered and vanished any other thoughts except on that one dying will. Harry couldn't understand anything else, and concentrated on bringing that exhilarating energy around his body. It coursed through his veins and he wanted to expel it away. He wanted to protect himself and then started to push it out his hands.

"AGHH!" With a loud yell, Harry saw scarlet flames spring out from his hands. It crashed into the orange bonfire and did a phenomenal thing that Harry swore wasn't his imagination. His own scarlet flames started to disintegrate the fire, freezing it to the core, and then breaking it down.

For those few minutes, Harry watched with half-lidded eyes; his body started to calm down, as he breathed in deeply. The rest of the fire died down and his disappeared.

His body suddenly felt heavy again and he dropped his hands, feeling an aching sensation in his hands. He closed his eyes, knowing that the danger was over. The remaining smoke filtered through the windows and out the house, while he remained inside. Through his filthy glasses, his room was black. Nothing was there anymore, except for a few melted toy soldiers and broken electronics.

Then, the door opened and Harry felt his body being carried out the door, worn cool leather gently covering his burns, and then he drifted off to unconsciousness.

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><p>"What do you mean we have to still take care of the freak?! He burned down most of my house!" Uncle Vernon's raging voice became louder and eventually he woke up.<p>

Harry covered his eyes when he saw the white ceiling and eventually turned his head to the right. A heart monitor was giving off a constant rhythm of beeps, rugged lines indicating his pulse. _'Where am I?'_

Slowly, he lifted himself against the bed frame and looked around. There were several pieces of furniture lying around and a window showing the London view. A wooden door located at the front and a curtain indicating a divider for other occupants.

_'Did I die?' _

"I don't want him under my care anymore! He's one of your kind!" Harry listened to his uncle complain to the elderly man. What did the fat lard mean by "one of your kind"? Did he have some kind of genetic disease special to some people? But whatever it was, his uncle was clearly affected and angry by that and the overall situation. He could imagine his reddening face and his fists shaking in the air. If that was out there, Harry was sure he didn't want to get out of bed.

"Now, let's calm down-"

"I will not listen to the likes of you anymore. Your demon brat became more trouble than ever this entire year and I will not tolerate it any longer!" Vernon interrupted the aged voice without any regards to his manners. He continued to yell, and Harry could imagine the rapidly purple face of his uncle.

"Mr. Dursley, try to listen to reason now. Harry is not safe without the blood wards surrounding your house." The wispy ancient voice calmly talked to his uncle, as if he wasn't listening to the increased anger in Uncle Vernon's tone.

"I don't give a damn about your freaky rituals! I want the boy out of my life, my family's life, and nowhere in this neighborhood!" His uncle declared, giving his demands to the elderly gentleman with a final snap.

With that, heavy footsteps walked away from the door, becoming quieter as seconds passed by. A heavy sigh was heard and Harry wanted to return to the comfortable hospital bed. But, he had an inkling that there was more to expect.

In the meantime, Harry released the breath he was holding. He didn't understand the situation, but what from what he could recollect, he was in an emergency hospital. His uncle was arguing with some elderly official and just left the building without even checking on him. He brought his hand to stop the chuckles that were coming out. _Yeah, that sounds like the fat lard_.

He checked on his injuries and noticed it wasn't that bad. Wrapped in white cotton bandages, his arms and hands were covered by the hospital gown. He tried to move all of his fingers, but winced as a shot of pain went up his arm.

Never mind, it was kind of bad. After, he felt his hair, which was tightly covered with some gauze.

Okay then, we're stuck in the hospital with an old man near our room. His subconscious concluded the situation at hand and tried to listen to what was going to happen next.

"I told you about the Dursleys, Albus. All of them are not capable to take care of Harry Potter." Another voice entered the conversation. Harry thought it belonged to a rather stern female adult. The sound of boots clicking against the marble floor was loud, as it kept on going until it stopped right in front of his door. "How are we going to settle this issue with the Aurors?"

"What are you going to do?" She asked one more question, before being silenced by the voice of this 'Albus'.

"Minerva, I'm afraid that Harry must still stay with his relatives; we need to make sure that everything is going to plan." The aged voice started to sound exhausted, as if the owner never slept or relaxed for just a moment.

"That shouldn't matter Albus! Harry Potter is only a child. Can you imagine what Lily and James would say if they saw this? Blasphemy!" The woman outside started to raise her voice even more. Even though Harry felt happiness from this random stranger's concern, she was still an unknown thing, and was starting to turn annoying.

"I understand the consequences that could come with this. However, we do need to move along and continue this for the sake of the greater good."

"… What greater good? This "greater good" is nothing but garbage now. It has done more harm than good. The female voice was determined, and the sound of the boots returned. The doorknob shook and Harry nimbly ran to his bed. Sliding under the covers, he turned to his side and closed his eyes. "I will not comply with you anymore Albus. I warned you once and twice. But now, it's over."

_If you're going to change the situation, then at least show your face._ Harry agreed with the voice.

"I'm sorry Minerva, but that cannot happen." Albus' voice gained a harder tone, making the clicking boots stop.

"And I'm sorry Albus," the doorknob turned to the right and the entrance opened a few inches. Harry's ear twitched at the sound of the door and began to breathe at a steady rhythm. He didn't want to scare this Minerva woman if she was going to be responsible for his escape from the Dursleys.

"No, I am the one to say sorry." Minerva turned around, closing the door by reflex. "Obliviate."

A bright flash and someone's head crashing against the door was heard.

Harry's entire body twitched, shocked from the escalated dramatic scene outside. He hid under his covers, scared of the bright light that would've blinded him if he didn't react fast enough. He wondered where the security guards and the rest of the doctors were. This entire thing sounded like a murder scene from one of the Dursley's horror movies.

"Oh Albus, what're you doing in a muggle hospital? There have been several complaints about Peeves from the paintings." Minerva sounded compliant and obedient.

"Don't worry about that Minerva. Return to Hogwarts and I'll follow you soon." Harry partially took off his covers and tried to see what was going on.

"Alright then," a loud crack and Albus' shadow could be seen from the slight space of the door opening. Harry covered his head once more and waited for the man to walk away. His heart was beating rapidly, his mind wondering if the strange man will enter and do the same thing to him.

Luckily for him, Albus only closed the door and disappeared with another one of those strange and loud cracks.

He was left alone now in his empty hospital room. He could hear the noise becoming loud and alive, with older patients strolling around with their nurses. The speakers were announcing the next surgical procedure and the assigned doctors' names. It was almost as if none of the weird sorcery happened; he took off his covers and ran to the semi-closed door. There were no marks from the head crash nor blood on the white marble floor.

Dazedly, the ten year old boy walked to his bed with swirling thoughts. He couldn't believe it; nothing was there.

When he viewed the window, it was already evening. The full moon and stars were up in dark obsidian sky. Suddenly, Harry felt alone and unsure of what do do. What could he possibly do in this case? His relatives were probably out of the neighborhood and to the nearest airport. The people that actually seemed to know him were either injured or didn't care for his being at all. No one was here to take care of the mess he was left with. The pattern he went through for so many years was stripped away from him. It was all because of those desirable flames he wanted to have as his own.

He didn't blame his wish to obtain them at all. If anything, Harry wanted to do was bring back those flames once more and comfort his pitiful state of mind.

_At least, you don't have any chores anymore. The Dursleys are done with you. You're free now. _The voice in his head switched to a different topic, effectively distracting his hurting brain to the present situation at hand. Even though all of what his subconscious was saying should make him joyous, it bothered him.

Everything was going way too fast. First, he started a fire that could've killed him and his uncle abandoned without another thought. Now, with these mysterious people that have these powers, it was just too fast.

He wanted to know what happened to the Minerva lady after the bright flash. He didn't catch any screams or panicked reactions behind that door, but only a subtle farewell from her. Especially after that weird one-sided talk with Albus, he only had more questions.

_'What is going on?'_

* * *

><p>"Reborn, bastardo! Fermare questo ora!" A lean blonde haired student screamed at his tutor, who was casually sitting on the edge of the cliff.<p>

"Hm," A hand grasped the handle of an espresso cup and brought it to its owner's lips. In a smooth transition, Reborn sipped the caffeinated beverage and watched his no-good student dodge the falling rocks and explosives.

"REBORN!"

"Stai zitto Dino," Reborn replied back and read the article. Apparently, the boy was playing with matches and started a fire in the little cupboard under the stairs. His relatives escaped safely, leaving the boy to fend the disaster for himself. However, there was no sign of serious injuries on the boy's body except minor first-degree burns when the firefighters rescued him.

"This is interesting." The hitman murmured and skimmed through the rest of the article. But as he reached to the end of the column, Reborn noticed that his student was finished with the course, and was trying to run off from training.

A smirk appeared on his face and a gun appeared in his hand, the newspaper neatly folded next to him. Pinpointing a few centimeters away from the boy, Reborn shot two bullets. He watched with amusement, as Dino gave a yelp and turned back with a scared look.

"Where're you running off to Dino?" Switching the language to English, Reborn asked, his gun cocked at Dino's chest.

"Um, I'm going to get some more espresso?" Dino replied, his body language obviously betraying to what he was saying.

Reborn sighed. His no-good student has a long way before he becomes the head of the Chiavarone family. "Then, let me help you with that."

"NO! No, it's alright. I can go-" Another bullet was shot, mere millimeters away from Dino's face. With a loud shriek, the teenager ran away at high speeds, hoping to lose the hitman inside the mansion up ahead. However, it was futile for him as Reborn simply stood up from his seat, readjusted his fedora, and took off.

_'He has a long way to go.'_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I want to say how thankful I am to receive all of these emails about new followers, favorites, and reviews. They helped me find the motivation to check over the chapter twice, but I'm pretty sure that I still made some mistakes. When I re-read it, I feel like it's going a bit too fast. I don't know, maybe you guys can review and tell me if I am? **

**Here are the Italian translations! I used google translate to find the expressions, so I apologize for my non-existent knowledge on Italian. **

**1. "Reborn bastardo! Fermare questo ora!" = "Reborn, you bastard! Stop this now!"**

**2. "Stai zitto Dino," = "Shut up Dino,"**

**Thanks! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer****: I do not own Harry Potter or Katekyo Hitman Reborn!**

* * *

><p>Morning came knocking at everyone's door with bright sunshine and clear blue skies. It was calming as the clouds passed by in a whimsical way. Children immediately woke up to play outdoors while their parents snuggled underneath the covers. The scene seemed perfect for everybody in the vicinity.<p>

To one patient, however, it was another menial day in the hospital.

A slight breeze roused Harry from his sleep as he looked around with a blurred view and a terrible bed-head. The birds chirped melodiously and a burst of sudden conversation made his surroundings much louder.

He groaned, seeing the optimistic looking scene and covered himself with his blankets. It got too noisy as people started to talk louder outside his door. Boy, he wanted to tell them to take it somewhere else, but the medical staff confined him until further orders by his doctor. He wanted to get out of his bed and take a breather like any other fidgety kid, but they kept telling him there were more tests to complete. Even though he originally felt alright, it was a confusing scuffle for all the adults. He breathed in deeply and flipped on to his back, where he concentrated on the white ceiling and its endless cracks.

It's been so long since the incident and the neighborhood was still in an uproar about it. Most of the neighbors around Privet Drive gossiped to the reporters, telling them about how they obviously knew there was something going on. Some of the residents, like Mrs. Polkiss dramatically wept, and said that she always disagreed with Aunt Petunia's parenting methods. Insulting Dudley's health problems with weight and his retched influence on her own son, the crying mother wanted to take Harry in her arms and act as a loving parental figure.

He snorted, like that was ever going to happen. Harry remembered her mocking glare and pompous attitude towards him. She wanted him to be put away in detention centers with the rest of the delinquents. Mind the public, those delinquents consisted of rebellious, violent teenagers that were older than he was.

For now, he was reluctant to wake up and face the day's challenges, which involved facing the relentless doctors' questions, interrogations from police officers, and countless medical testing from the hospital staff. With nervous interns and far-sighted nurses, Harry was courageous to let them handle the blood work. Besides the lethal instruments of annoyance/death, there were also X-ray scans, MRI's, and other useless stuff.

On the first day, nobody didn't mind the second degree burns since he was obviously involved in the fire. But in his befuddled state of mind, he saw the confused looks from the doctor as police officers relayed the story. From his limited hearing, the officers told them that he was in the center of the blaze. Yet, the medical diagnosis covered that his burns only reached his palms and calves. His clothes weren't tarnished except for the singed ends. Harry was only found unconscious on the scene with black ashes all over his body.

However, the burns were unusual as they couldn't be treated by normal methods. After the first medical diagnosis, the doctors put him under some painkillers while they worked on the burns. He didn't know what happened as he fell asleep after a few minutes. He dreamed of the same pair of charcoal eyes staring at him amusedly. Over that time, Harry kept reaching out for its face. He knew those eyes belonged to Reborn, the man who gave him a motive to live. He needed to know why it was possible for him to create these flames. He realized he may sound obsessed, but the flames were the only good things that came out of his life.

The disappearing act in school was worthless since he received detention from the principal. The wig switch was nothing, but a calling for trouble from Mrs. Collins. His aunt would notice the minuscule touches he made while doing his chores. This sort of magic didn't benefit his life so far. But, the colorful flames - maroon and yellow - gave him something to be curious about. They morphed as a goal to carry out because he and Reborn are the only ones who know of this mysterious discovery.

While he wondered if the flames are just one more thing within his supernatural arsenal, it didn't matter because he wasn't alone anymore.

Despite his new goal, Harry was still trapped in the hospital. By now, his relatives must've dropped his stuff at his orphanage and told the patrons that they paid for his unforgiving ass. Other than that, Harry was under constant supervision by the nurses, who always threatened him with those sharp needles.

He started to count the little cracks on the ceiling while thinking more on the conclusions that the adults made together.

Altogether, they decided he was another case of neglect and wanted to escape by using the fire as a distraction. Even though he failed and created a bigger explosion than what they thought he wanted, he got his wish. Honestly to all the professionals, they didn't want to punish the little kid because they didn't like his relatives either. When the police approached him for questioning, Harry told them about the terrible mistreatment, which included extended hours of chores along with starvation.

Even then he wasn't in any sort of punishment due to the fact his relatives abandoned their property and left the country. Apparently, when the officers checked the house for further evidence, there was nothing: no pictures, clothes, or even Dudley's precious video games. It was as if they swept everything in suitcases and quickly vanished by magic.

Harry snickered in his pillow. It was hilarious as he compared it with magic since his relative hated that word. It was like a curse word, forbidding anyone to even mutter it under their breaths. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon wouldn't explain their hatred of the word and their extreme behavior if he casually mentioned it in a joke.

He understood that this was a major event in his life. It's supposed to be an epiphany, but he guessed that he's used to these things already.

'I guess it was all 'cause of me.' He thought, one green eye supervising the open door, where his nurse came in for the daily check-up. Ms. Rose got hired a few weeks ago and he was her fourth patient for the taking.

"Good morning Harry, how was your sleep?" She asked with a bright smile, adjusting the IV needle in his arm, and started to check off things on her clipboard.

"It was alright; I had a dream about flying motorcycles though." He leaned against the bed post. "Ms. Rose, it was so awesome. I thought I was actually up with the clouds."

She wrote more on her clipboard. "That sounds really cool Harry. I wish I had that dream instead of the one I had. I had to wake up earlier than I'm used to because there was a giant panda trying to eat me. I thought I was going to be panda food and tried to run. But, I was an actual bamboo shoot and got stuck to the ground!"

Harry giggled, his mind imagining the 'nightmare' Ms. Rose dreamt. His nurse was a bit silly; her childish mindset calming to him compared to the other nurses.

In fact, he couldn't relax in the beginning when he woke up a few days ago, his head still reeling the events between the two mysterious people. The bright white lights and the sound of crashes invaded his mind, making Harry unable to comprehend what was going on. He felt scared with the thought that he was going to forget as the footsteps of the old man got closer to his door.

But when he only closed it, Harry relieved a sigh and quickly went back to sleep. Now, it was such a sudden realization for him that he might be all alone; his remaining relatives abandoned him and his only hope of an escape disappeared with that bright flash.

'No,' Harry thought while watching Ms. Rose replaced his bandages with fresh ones. 'The lady just walked away instead of entering through the door. What did that man say? _Obliviate_?'

"Harry dear, are you alright?" Ms. Rose snapped him from his thoughts as she looked on worriedly. He sheepishly smiled for his lack of attention and continued to watch her tender bandaging quietly.

"Well it's 9 in the morning, do you want to try to walk to the cafeteria?" She finished the wrapping and offered a hand.

"Sure," he took the offer as he got off his bed and dizzily headed towards the door. "Am I going back to my aunt and uncle?"

If it wasn't for the fact that he was trying to gauge her reaction, he would've missed Ms. Rose's little shoulder twitch.

"Oh no Harry, you have to spend a bit more here in the hospital. But, don't you like it here with me around?" She asked as both walked down the bustling hallway of the pediatrics ward. Children were heading towards the cafeteria while making conversation with one another. The toddlers were happily screaming along with their nurses about breakfast while the older kids walked at a more sedate pace.

"Yeah, I guess." He answered and they walked past everyone to eventually reach a set of doors. Opening them, Harry saw several rows of tables where some younger children were eating bowls of cereal or oatmeal. They looked too relaxed in his opinion, more comfortable than him when he was their age.

"Don't worry about them, you can make friends after getting some food in your stomach. For now, let's try to eat some breakfast before we meet people." She gently pushed him to the front of the cafeteria, walking right behind him and saying her greetings to the patients around her. "Hey Harry, you should say good morning to everyone too."

Harry shook his head as he rushed to the group of volunteers who were handing out a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon with apple slices. Muttering his thanks, Harry waited for Ms. Rose to stop talking to a little girl and looked around for a free table.

There were some empty seats, but they were quickly taken by some adults in surgical garb. He shrunk, carrying the plate closer to his chest. He thought the adults ate somewhere else instead of with the kids.

"What's wrong Harry? Having trouble finding a table for us?" Ms. Rose asked with a red tray in her hands. "There's one right near the door! Allons-y!"

She walked ahead, making sure Harry was still behind her. She was definitely worried for the kid since his only relatives couldn't be found in their house. With no reports of ticket purchases or traveling, it seems like the Dursleys disappeared completely. No matter how many times the officers searched the place (with a permit, of course), there was only dust bunnies and the scorches from the fire.

She kept an eye on Harry as they sat down at the same time. The nine-year old acted like an obedient puppy, happy to receive any sort of positive attention from anybody. It made her want to cuddle with him for a while; life wasn't fair for everyone.

"So Harry, do you see anyone that's nice?" She asked right away, hoping that her patient can get out of bed more. Under her supervision, she noticed that Kyle was curiously staring at Harry with a steady gaze. Though she wasn't sure if Harry saw as well, but she was going to help the poor boy.

"Do you see the little boy with curly red hair and green t-shirt?" Ms. Rose asked, pointing a finger at Kyle.

Harry followed that direction and nodded. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

She shook her head. "This isn't about me; it's about you. You should try to see. I met him once and he's absolutely been nice and well-adjusted since his stay here."

"Do you know why he's in here?"

"Now Harry," she reprimanded on his rude behavior, but sighed when she remembered that Harry didn't know anything about basic courtesy. "It's not of my business to tell you. But, if you really want to know, you can ask him when you guys are good buddies."

She waited for her patient to finish breakfast before picking him up to the next table over. There were many kids rushing to sit on one of those few chairs and others simply stood beside the area. Yet, the most interesting part is when Kyle pushed his breakfast to the side, and jumped eagerly in his seat.

"Hi, my name's Harry. What's yours?" Harry asked from his seat on Ms. Rose's shoulder. He dropped to an adjacent seat and waited for a response.

"The name's Kyle. I'm eight years old and I love to eat treacle tarts for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. What about you?"

Kyle offered a handshake and he accepted it with delight. "I'm nine years old and I have no idea what's a treacle tart."

"Gasp, what a shame!" Kyle shook his head. "You need to try the devastatingly delicious pastry that is the treacle tart."

It was ridiculous to Harry how amiable Kyle was. Was this how Harry could have made friends if Dudley wasn't there to tell each person that he was a freak?

His heart is going to burst from his chest with the sudden rise of excitement and happiness.

"Do you want to play outside?" He asked before rapidly shutting his mouth.

'So stupid,' Harry thought of himself; nobody asked the other to do something quickly when they just met. 'Now, he's going to leave me behind.'

Kyle hummed under his breath and answered, "Why not? Let me get other kids to join us and head outside. We'll be waiting for you there!"

Then, he was off like the wind. Putting his trash in one bin and tray on top, Kyle waved a hand before leaving the cafeteria.

Harry continued to stare until Ms. Rose probed his shoulder. "Are you alright Harry? Nothing bad happened?"

"Huh, oh yeah, nothing bad happened at all." Harry smiled with his gleaming white teeth. It was a brilliant day. He could finally understand why everyone was so happy at the start of dawn. He never understood why making new friends was a way to happiness, but he did now.

"Okay, now that we're done, let's head to the physical therapy office." The mood just dropped a million degrees before settling on absolute zero.

"But Ms. Rose, I got to meet up with Kyle now." Widening his eyes in disbelief, Harry complained to the only other person he was comfortable in the entire hospital.

"Shush, it'll only take a few minutes. Tops will be 10 minutes, I promise." Ms. Rose grasped Harry's hand and walked towards the same entrance. Yet, a consecutive sound of footsteps stopped her walk; Harry bumped into her after dropping the whiny stance.

"Good morning Dr. Kawai; how are you?" Ms. Rose asked an approaching doctor, who looked nonchalant in his brown trousers and grey sweater. His tinted glasses covered the ice-cold eyes that surveyed the area before making contact with Harry's emerald ones.

It was like an anime or a cartoon battle. Harry wanted to look away from the awkward staring, but somehow he couldn't. It was an urge to prove something; he had no idea though what he was trying to do though. So he continued to stare, forgetting that him, Ms. Rose, and the doctor were blocking the entrance.

Finally, the man broke away and replied, "Hello Ms. Rose. I'm fine, thank you. Is this your new patient?"

"Ah, yes," Ms. Rose answered with a slight hesitation as she was too busy admiring his stature. "His name's Harry Potter. Harry, say hi to Dr. Kawai."

"... Good morning," said Harry, who shuffled his left shoe for awhile. He turned to Ms. Rose who reverted back to admiring the doctor with starry eyes. "Ms. Rose, may I go to the courtyard? I wanna play with Kyle."

"Sure, go right ahead," his nurse closed the distance between herself and Dr. Kawai.

Harry frowned at the intimate contact and sudden lack of interest on Ms. Rose's part. He shrugged; it wasn't his business and he needed to hurry before Kyle lost interest in him. He didn't want to lose a friend right away. Off he went past the entrance and to the right where a pair of doors opened to the vast courtyard, leaving the two medical professionals in his wake.

"Dr. Kawai, I heard you performed a miraculous case on a bullet victim yesterday night. I wanted to watch your procedure, but Harry took up most of my time with his physical counseling." Ms. Rose brought up some old news, hoping that the gorgeous polite gentleman would understand her friendly gestures.

However, her crush was staring at the flipping doors with interest.

"Um Dr. Kawai," she waved a hand to get his attention. "Are you here on Earth?"

Finally the man focused on her, but he assumed a disturbing look on his face. His gaze seemed to sharpen with malicious intent and his furrowed eyebrows indicated a massive dislike towards her. It only lasted a second before his face shifted to a calm smile.

She shivered. Did she imagine that or was Dr. Kawai someone who she underestimated?

"Now now Rose, no need to go in a rush. My eyes are all on you." He answered with that damn smile and lifted a hand to rest on her head.

She looked up to where the appendage was. "Uh, sorry about that."

He brought her head a bit closer to match gazes. "No need to apologize, it was my fault for not paying attention."

A flash of his brown eyes and she was falling down a narrow tube. She only saw his stare and the glint of his glasses, continuously going down a well that doesn't have a floor.

"Now, Ms. Rose why don't you keep watch on Harry-kun until I tell you to stop?" He asked, tracing a whirled pattern on her cheek, yet the nurse didn't seem to notice the touch.

Instead, she was entranced and only nodded to his question.

"Good, now let's get Harry to play with the other kids? I'll be upstairs to keep an eye. For you, make sure to send any reports on anything about my dear child." Another nod made him smile.

Looking around the rest of the cafeteria, everyone didn't see or mind the weird conversation happening in front. Instead, they were busy talking with one another about their terrible schedule shifts and upcoming surgeries.

"Haha, anyways I have to go dear." He waved a hand and left the room.

* * *

><p>'Ah, what should I do?' He looked at his newest patient, who was playing tag with several boys out in the courtyard. He observed from the second floor window, easily pinpointing this Harry Potter since he's the only one brimming with storm flames.<p>

It didn't sound like an interesting case when he found out from the gossip vine. At first, he figured it was a simple delinquent case of arsenal with the kid breaking out into a fever. So, he prescribed some painkillers and a call to his guardians, hoping that this bore would quickly pass.

However, his guardians disappeared off the face of Surrey and now he's left with an unconscious skinny kid on his hospital bed. If anything, he could've just create an illusion and drop the boy with a different set of memories at the orphanage. It wasn't his problem since he had bigger issues to deal with.

As he passed by Potter's room during his midnight rounds (and on Potter's second night), he noticed a bright red flare through the thin crack of the door. He opened it, inwardly sighing that he had to raise his voice that late at night. However, when he saw his ward's scrunched face and a wall of maroon flames surrounding his bedside, a slight trickle of interest repealed his original opinion.

He closed the door behind him and sat on the other twin bed, watching the maroon flames flicker in and out of existence. Though the new nurse closed the windows, the flames swayed by the boy's scrunched up face. New flames covered the dying ones, continuing the cycle for a few minutes before disappearing altogether.

It was black, but he still stayed in Potter's room. In between him standing up to open the windows and him leaving the room with his clipboard, he remembered feeling his cheeks stretched wide and a sharp grin on his usually monotonous face.

"Doctor Hira, come to Room 301. I repeat, Doctor Hira report to Room 301." The speakers blared out, awakening him from his memory.

He sighed, reluctant to tear his gaze away from his newest interest. He pushed his glasses up and walked to the center staircase, where he could hear a little boy going through an epileptic episode in Room 301. Two nurses were attempting to turn him to his side, where the kid was trying to breathe.

'I should just let him die for distracting me.' He thought; nevertheless, he straightened his hair and placed his glasses at a crooked angle. He wrangled his lab coat and coughed a bit.

'So troublesome,' he rushed inside, where he could see the two nurses visibly relax as if he was a superhero or the savior in scrubs. 'I should just kill them all.'

"Thank goodness you're here Dr. Kawai! Kyle's having an allergic reaction to his medication. What should we do? We tried to follow the procedure, but he's not responding." One of the nurses exclaimed, moving away from the bed to let him take care of the problem.

'Oh shut up woman,' he thought before bringing some of his flames near the boy's temple. 'No one wants to hear your annoying voice.'

Small violet flames expanded and covered the boy's head, then going in the ear canal. He focused on strain in his brain and released the tension, while moving the boy's body to his side. Eventually, the kid's seizure stopped and started to breathe at a steady tempo. He removed his hand and turned to face the idiotic nurses.

"It's okay now girls. Kyle just needs some rest." He reassured the women, who left the room with their thanks.

He faced "dear Kyle" with disinterest as the boy woke up with a sleepy gaze. "Hi Kyle, I'm just going to check you one more time for any after effects."

Without the kid's permission, he looked over his body and seeing nothing, he reported, "It looks alright now. Take it easier now. You're not up to Superman's strength, so you need to rest a lot, okay?"

The annoyance nodded in understanding and he left the room, walking down the hallway to his personal hide-out: the roof. It was a perfect place for solitude and to listen to everything that's happening in his kingdom. The rumors, medical reports, and the words that make everyone in the hospital despicable in his mind.

Now, he has a new toy to play around hopefully for him to permanently keep until he becomes bored again.

"This will be going to be fun for a change." He spoke his first words for that day and vanished to the stairway.

* * *

><p>"I hope Kyle's okay. He looked fine during the game." One of the many kids interjected in his conversation with a random girl. Harry nodded in agreement; Kyle matched his running pace as they played cops and robbers for an hour or too. After that, they played in the hospital, promising to meet once they finished their appointments with the doctors.<p>

Harry remembered that Kyle suffered occasional seizures and that hindered his ability to continue his other life at London. He hoped that his first buddy would feel better and wished for a nice rest.

Nevertheless, after meeting so many kids without his cousin sneering from the corner of the room, Harry thought he could stay here for awhile. Ms. Rose can act like his pseudo guardian and all the children were his friends. He didn't have to leave for his awful relatives.

Crawling under the covers, he removed his worn glasses, and waited for the nurse to come back. It was a night he would remember for sure. With tomorrow morning coming, Harry couldn't wait to meet Kyle and the other kids again. Instead of playing out in the courtyard, he could try to show them his wonderful gift.

'Can you even do that again?' His thoughts doused his excitement as he looked down at his hands. They were plain children's hands, not developed enough to carry flames in his opinion. But, he needed to at least try. He didn't want his life wasted away, constantly wishing for that shade of maroon to appear once more.

'Come on,' he frowned and blocked out his surroundings. The silence covered the heart monitor's beeping and the machine's humming. It was kind of difficult as this was his first time. No matter, the flames were his first goal.

"Come on, I can do it." Harry grasped his wrist and tensed until his fingers cramped from over-exertion. Heaving several deep breaths, he released everything and laid back down.

It was exhausting to simply create a spark like he did back in the cupboard. What did he do to get that flame?

'Just try it tomorrow. You're tired from everything today.' Ms. Rose's voice echoed in his brain and Harry reluctantly agreed with the voice in his head.

"Today was just too much for me." Harry spoke out loud and burrowed his body under the covers. "Let's just go for tomorrow."

* * *

><p>Kyle knew he was drowning. He felt lethargic; his body wouldn't listen to what he wanted despite how desperate he was. He needed to survive from this dark abyss he was trapped in. Yet, his arms and legs were unresponsive. They felt like something heavy bounded them to the ground, where bounds of rope stopped him from swimming to the surface. The atmosphere felt heavy and he struggled to go to a place where he didn't feel like the very air wasn't compressing his chest.<p>

"Hel-p," he whispered in the pitch blackness. His eyes opened, but there was no visible light. No matter how he strained his eyes to see anything that included a faint outline, it was complete darkness. So similar to a black hole, Kaya compared himself to a blind man.

"Hel-p m-e, he-lp me, h-el-p me," he repeated this mantra, hoping one of the nurses would notice his horrible predicament. He tried to speak louder, but his sore throat made it difficult to even whisper his frantic plea.

Then, he heard a small crackle in the back of his conscious. It sounded like a start of a campfire, where the sparks ignited the wood, and created a large roar of fire. Another crackle and his breathing got easier to control. A continuous rhythm of crackles rang through his mind and he could feel his body be relieved of stress.

No more did he try to speak out as he blinked and watch an ever-growing fire brighten up the place. However, what was strange was how violet the flames looked in his eyes. A strange mix of purple and violet swirl in the center as embers floated to beyond the abyss. It was peaceful to just release his stress as the flames came closer to where he was.

'Shouldn't I be worried about this?' He wondered as the flames consumed his body, burning the ropes and his skin at the same time. He administered no pain as the fire quickly burned his body to ashes, yet his mind took its own pace. While he didn't have a physical body, his thoughts continued to speak out in the never-ending abyss.

'I hope I stay like this forever.' Silence was the only ironic sound left in this reality. There was nothing else except for the burning violet flames.

'Finally, I'm with mum.'

Then, the flames withered down to a small ember, and was quickly put out.

Outside, a thin line of those same violet flames traveled from the boy's ear canal to the hospital floor. Slithering out the door and hallways where everybody was too busy sleeping or writing during that late night, it looked for its master.

Passing by strangers and climbing multiple steps, it reached the rooftop where its master laid on the floor. It made its destination as it curled like a snake and sunk in its master's head.

"What a good boy," its master muttered and returned to his habitual routine of watching the night sky.

Visions of Kyle settling down in his mindscape made the doctor smile. He accomplished his job for the day and now he could relax until the daybreak occurred once more, and where his little toy can wake up for a round of games..

"Though I wonder if he can help me as well," his glasses shone with the bright moonlight. "I hope time can go faster. I want to meet my new toys."

* * *

><p>By next morning, Ms. Rose found dear Kyle dead in his bed with violet colored burns on his body.<p>

She gasped, wondering what happened to the poor kid. She knew that Dr. Kawai recovered the boy from his seizure, but where did the burns come from? Was he playing with fire just like Harry?

She went to press the call button in order to get additional help when she heard sudden footsteps at the door. The nurse turned around to find Dr. Kawai standing there with his hands in the pockets. She let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding.

"Oh, good morning Dr. Kawai. I didn't hear you coming." She waved a hand in Kyle's direction. "I came to check his vitals and saw this instead."

Yet, the doctor didn't say anything at all, only staring at her with ice-cold grey eyes. He stepped forward, closing the door and shades without any physical contact. Ms. Rose took a step back, bumping against the hospital bed.

"How'd you do that?" She squeaked before going to the opposite side of the bed, creating a barrier between herself and her supposed crush.

"..." Dr. Kawai's outline brightened with a sudden roar of violet flames. It didn't make sense to Ms. Rose, who let out a loud scream of surprise. She looked at the door behind her crush and immediately pushed the bed as a weapon. It pushed the man backwards and allowed her to run to the door. Her heart pounded with adrenaline as she attempted to open the door with her shaking hands.

It wouldn't open and she let out another scream. "HELP ME! ANYBODY OUT THERE, HELP ME!"

"My dear, nobody's going to help you." A dark voice made her shriek in fear as she turned around to find her face inches away from the doctor's. Usually she would be thrilled to find this kind of scene happening in reality, but all she could think of was her life flashing through her eyes.

"Hm, this seems pretty anti-climatic." The doctor laid a hand on her head, just like he did yesterday morning. "I mean, you were in my illusion since yesterday and yet there's no sign of struggling. Sigh, humans are too boring for my taste."

Then, all thought vanished from Ms. Rose's mind as her eyes dulled and her whole posture slumped over. Dr. Kawai inserted a thin line of violet flames to her brain. "I guess with my mist flames, you can be another toy for my amusement."

A dark chuckle awoke the nurse and she looked around to find her crush staring at her worriedly. She blushed, "Good morning, Dr. Kawai; is there something wrong?"

He waved a hand, "Oh no, I was just checking to see if you're alright. You stopped in front of Kyle's room all of a sudden. You kind of scared him."

Ms. Rose looked over his shoulder to find the little boy awake with a mussed bedhead. "Hi Ms. Rose, are you alright?"

"I'm alright, sorry Kyle. I guess I didn't sleep too well last night." She laughed happily and stepped aside to check the child's vital signs. "I'm sorry for bothering you Dr. Kawai. I guess I'm still a rookie when it comes to nursing."

The doctor laughed along as he shook his head, "Don't worry about anything. As long as you're doing your job, then I think you're right for this profession."

She blushed once more and smiled brightly.

"As you were," Dr. Kawai ended the conversation and left the room with an evil smirk, not that nobody would notice.

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><p><span><strong>Author's Note<strong>**: Uh hey guys :D****  
><strong>

**Suddenly finding time to finish this chapter and starting the next one is still a surprise to me. I didn't know that school became a big part of my daily life and I'm regretting that I couldn't upload this chapter faster. **

**But hey, better late than never? Heh. **

**Anyways, I was VERY surprised when I kept receiving emails about new followers, favorites, and reviews during this year. I thought nobody would read it since I haven't updated for an entire six months. But, thank you to everyone. **

**Reviews are helpful and love for every follower!**

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><p><strong>** edited 824/2014 **


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! and Harry Potter. **

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><p><em>He tugged on his superior's sleeve, making sure to not look at the agonized faces of the victims. It was difficult as his focus kept coming back to the colorful flames that drew out from each person. The flames intertwined with one another, becoming a colorful stream of different shades: chaotic red, bursting yellow, static green, calming blue, misty indigo, and harsh violet. But, they twisted around the wonderful harmonic orange flame as their center. Altogether, they entered through a chamber of a large object in his superior's hand.<em>

_His mentor looked at him with a curious stare. It was a 'go' signal for him to ask his question._

_"Why are we doing this?" He immediately asked, not wanting to wait once more. He understood that he would take over this job of collecting the flames from 7 people, putting their dying wills in the chamber for a greater purpose. But, he never understood why._

_"It's to help the rest of humanity here on this Earth." His mentor shut off the connection and walked off, never looking at the - now - dead._

_"What do you mean by helping? Weren't those people humans too? Why do they have to sacrifice themselves for people they do not know?" He continued to ask, curious about why only a handful of humans that have ambitions, dreams, lives, and happiness of their own are given up for a goal they're not even aware of._

_His mentor answered, "They are, but in the greater case or let's say the bigger picture, they'll have to give up to help others improve the future for the next generation. It is an unfair and vicious cycle, but it is the best way to ensure safety for the children. It's hard to explain in simpler words for you Kawahira, but you'll eventually understand that fate cannot be altered for everyone."_

_He stayed silent for the rest of the journey back to their dimension, where they would store the flames in a safe place, and wait for the next group of Arcobaleno to succeed their precedents' places._

_He didn't want them to suffer; it's entirely too selfish for him and his mentor to allow this kind of abuse. However, there was nothing he could do or think to improve the situation._

_So, he watched for more than a millennium as flames got absorbed and ripped from groups of people. Their infant forms steadily growing back to their original sizes as the enormous abundance of flames disappear from their minds. Steadily, he began to lose himself as his curiosity clashed with his duty, leaving a new creature to wreak havoc on others. _

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><p>After last night's failure, Harry decided to worry about the issue later. Meanwhile, he was waiting for Kyle at the same place in the cafeteria. Ms. Rose was trying to get him to eat some of his oatmeal.<p>

"Harry, Kyle's going to come out. You need to eat breakfast." She urged him, getting a spoon of the hot meal near his mouth.

He pouted, wanting to talk with his new friend and ask about his health. Kyle's sudden collapse startled him and the other kids yesterday and he felt guilty about the entire thing. If he was only calmer, then maybe Kyle didn't have to exert himself so much for him. Sighing, he ate the offered oatmeal and took the spoon from his nurse, eating the rest with a hurried pace.

"Slow down," Ms. Rose lectured him, "We still have time before Kyle can come out to play. In the meanwhile, we need to go to your session with the doctor. We skipped it once you sneaked out with your new friends."

Swallowing his last scoop, Harry retaliated, "Ms. Rose, you were too busy looking at Dr. Kawai."

Blushing a rather deep red, Ms. Rose flustered, waving her hands everywhere in denial. "W-what are you talking about Harry? Dr. Kawai and I were just conversing about work, that's all!"

"Unhuh, of course you were," Harry replied back. His nurse mock-glared at his obvious sarcasm and 'harrumphed'.

"I think you're getting too comfortable around here. You're still a little kid here, Harry." Ms. Rose rubbed her knuckles on Harry's head, punishing her patient with a tight noogie. A satisfying shriek came from Harry and she stopped, before ruffling his hair to end her little act.

Harry pouted once more; he began to rearrange his messy hair to the image he only knew, subconsciously hiding his lightning bolt scar with his fringe. He knew Ms. Rose was telling the truth. After a week filled with kindness from his personal nurse and a whole afternoon playing with the kid patients, his negativity towards the Dursleys and their torment vanished from his mind. It was like a whole new beginning for him; he didn't have to worry about chores or bullying from the Dudley gang with their idea of Harry hunting.

It was a vacation and he loved it (except for the tedious medical examinations). His attitude became more like his age group and he didn't have to stay quiet at all. His voice is heard by Ms. Rose and she didn't criticize for his sarcasm. Instead, she encouraged it because he felt more confident, and only reprimanded him when his comments reached a certain breaking point.

Besides that, Harry was ready to get the session over and dash off to Kyle's room. Maybe, he could check his schedule at the nurse's station and escape when Ms. Rose's not going to supervise him. Since she's the only persistent nurse that developed a resistance against his cute looks, Harry had to watch out for a chance to take.

Suddenly, a large hand clapped him on the shoulder, making him jump in surprise. Both persons turned around to find Dr. Kawai with Kyle holding his hand. Kyle looked alright in Harry's opinion; his eyes were bright and his body moved around a lot. A friendly smile plastered on his face and as well on Dr. Kawai. While the doctor's glasses didn't glint like last time, but Harry still got an eerie feeling from the doctor.

"Morning Harry, I just wanted to see how you were. Kyle scared you a lot yesterday, right?" He asked, gazing at both kids before looking at Ms. Rose.

His nurse immediately broke out a blush and managed to speak, "He's alright. In fact, he was so anxious to find Kyle here and play once more!"

"Really?" Kyle asked with a large smile and Harry nodded with a blush on his face. It seems like he was more similar to Ms. Rose than he thought.

"Why don't we play tag once more? I promised that I won't faint on you again!"

Harry raised his head. "Are you sure?"

Before Kyle was going to answer his question, Ms. Rose grasped his shoulder and shook her head. "Remember that we have to visit your doctor, Harry. Let's finish that quickly and I'll see if we'll have time for a recess."

"Aww," Kyle pouted. "That's no fun!"

That's when Dr. Kawai intercepted and said, "Now Kyle, Harry needs these sessions to get healthier."

He ruffled Harry's hair for a few seconds, gently leading Kyle to a table. "Alright, see you later Harry-kun. Let's hope that you'll have more fun this time."

Dr. Kawai watched both his toys leave the cafeteria, putting special focus on Harry as he muttered "kun" under his breath. It looked like he has to teach the young bespectacled kid on the Japanese customs later on. He looked at his puppet, who was staring back at him with blank eyes now.

"Let us go eat some food. I'm starving."

"..."

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><p>After meeting with Kyle, Harry and Ms. Rose headed to his session. He thought of dangerous needles and an evil-looking doctor holding a large syringe in his hand. Strangely, the professional looked like an angered Uncle Vernon without any hair. It was a funny image to laugh at, so Harry stored it away for a later time.<p>

Eventually, they arrived at their destination; they stopped before a large office with two wooden doors blocking their entrance. Ms. Rose knocked on one door several times and reported, "Doctor, your patient is here."

"Come on in", she opened the door, leaving Harry to cringe as his first impression. Though the room looked as if it was modernly designed, the walls colored a gaudy red and the furniture was all white. The only colored furniture was the patient's seat - a brown lounge couch, making it stand out from the rest of the room.

"Good morning Harry, how're you today?" A kind smile brought his attention to a medium height man with brown hair and brown eyes. He spoke with a tenor voice and his posture straight without a hunch or tremor. In fact, the only strange trait the doctor had been the look in his eyes. They portrayed disgust and hatred. Harry didn't know why the doctor was feeling like that, but with that, Harry didn't trust the "kind" doctor at all.

"I'm fine," he muttered, following Ms. Rose's guide to the couch. He sat down, making sure his foot touched the floor. That made it easier for him to run through the door if he had to escape. "How are you?"

"Oh, thank you for asking. It's alright so far. But we're not here for me, instead we're here for you." The doctor nodded to Ms. Rose, who immediately turned face about to leave.

Harry grabbed her hand, "Where're you going Ms. Rose?"

"Don't worry Harry, I'll be right outside. The doctor just wants you to feel comfortable about telling your feelings to him." She comforted him with an easy smile and quickly dropped his hand.

Harry watched as Ms. Rose left the office with mumbling words of "early dismissal" and "found the family".

He froze as the door closed before him.

_What?_

"I understand that it might feel weird about telling me your feelings. However, I'll also tell you that talking to someone can make you feel better immediately." Harry didn't trust that soft voice.

He never met this doctor before, so what gave him the privilege to hear his secrets. What was he supposed to even say? Is he supposed to tell who started the fire or his treatment at the Dursleys? What did the doctor want? His mind was still digesting on his nurse's mutters. He was going back to the Dursleys?

"Harry?"

The nine-year old blocked all noise as he concentrated on his current problem. He thought his relatives would move far away, especially when Uncle Vernon threw that tantrum in front of the old man. Maybe something happened to them while he was in the hospital?

"Harry, I want you to feel comfortable."

He thought of that word, _Obliviate_. Maybe they were victims of the brainwashing and became underlings of the old man? There were so many questions and missing pieces that didn't make any sense.

"Do you want to talk?"

Instead, Harry remained quiet and the doctor's smile dimmed a little. Ah, it seems the man wasn't entirely perfect.

"Harry, I'm not going to pressure you in telling me anything." Obviously, the older man was changing methods now. The doctor flipped through a clipboard with paper. Taking out a pen, he wrote something before staring back at Harry with those weird eyes of his. "Go at your own pace; this is your time. If you're worried about anyone hearing your secrets, no need to worry. These walls are sound-proof."

Even though Harry thought his stay at the hospital was too long in the beginning, he didn't want to leave anymore. This was now his reality and it was better than anything else in his opinion. In his child-like mind, that he has a friend, pseudo-guardian, food, and a better place to rest is perfect in his future.

He didn't need to go anywhere else, but by attending these sessions with the doctor, they will know that his injuries are getting better and his mental conditions are alright for release.

So, there was only one way to go. Harry pouted with his arms crossed and began to shout rather annoyingly, "Stupid doctor, of course it's about me. Who'd you think you're talking to?"

The doctor twitched a little. Unfortunately for him, Harry noticed that detail along with the two frames that stood out in contrast to the red walls.

"If we're here to talk about me, then you should obviously start with a better introduction. Oh wait, let's start with something easier, seeing that you're not even responding." Harry assumed a cocky smirk, something he learned from Uncle Vernon very early in his childhood.

The man wrote something down on his little clipboard. "Eh, at least we're going -"

"Excuse me, oh no, you're not worth my kindness; if anything, you're an ant looking up to me. Listen to me, you puny ant, you're worth nothing. People look at me, ask for my answers, not anyone else." Harry tried to base his new personality on the fire incident. With the sudden blast of news about himself, he could become an arrogant kid who thinks that everybody has interest in him. If it didn't, the doctor can at least write that he needs to stay in the hospital for further studies.

"Now Harry, I know what you're trying -"

"HMM, nope. I don't think you know at all. I mean, what I'm saying now is true. Tell me doc, did you have one person congratulate you on your success?" Harry leaned forward, his chin rested on one hand.

The doctor twitched a bit more and his façade as a friendly man started to break. Harry can see that he touched a sensitive subject and continued to prod the poor man.

"Ah, it seems like you were most likely ignored, even when you earned your Masters and Phd. I bet you cheated to get your degrees and lied to get a job in this hospital." Harry felt really guilty in the inside, but he wasn't going to stop now. The doctor didn't look like he endured any damage on his side and only had to listen to problems instead of insults. He was almost there to the finish line and he needed to cross over to secure his victory. He had to sacrifice a pawn to get the king.

"No, you listen here," the doctor stood up in a fit of rage and raised a fist. "I am the adult here. I am the one who calls if you should stay here in this damn hospital or leave safely. So, I suggest -"

"Seriously, I think you should stop interrupting me." Harry rubbed his forehead in mock annoyance. "All that talk and I know you're not going to do anything. I'm liked by all the kids and one of the kinder nurses in this place. They will believe in me and not some unknown man in a white coat. I mean I wonder what will happen if the poor doctor just did something to the pitiful kid who almost died in the fire?"

He stood up and went for the door. Before he opened his exit, Harry turned around to look directly at the enraging doctor. "By the way, I never got your name."

He went out to find Ms. Rose waiting for him, tapping a pen on a manila folder. He coughed and got her attention. "Ms. Rose, I think I'm done."

She looked surprised as she checked her watch. "Are you sure about that? There's another 10 minutes until the session ends."

"Well, I started talking and the strange doctor finished it off by saying I was a freak and I deserved to die." He shrugged, but held a teary face as if to act like a strong kid.

Immediately, Ms. Rose came down on her knees and dropped the manila folder behind her, opening it to the first page by accident. "Really Harry? Oh my gosh, I need to make a complaint about this."

Harry threw himself in her arms and broke out in a sob. "I don't want to see him. I want to stay with you instead."

Carefully, his eyes examined the list and noticed that Kyle's room was on it. Memorizing the room number, he removed himself from her arms. "Can I go to my room now? I don't feel well after that."

She nodded in agreement. "Okay, let's go now. I'll drop you off and send my complaints to the director about this. It's annoying that there's no video evidence to use against him."

"It's okay," Harry smiled and grabbed one of her hands. "As long as Ms. Rose and Kyle are here, I don't need to worry about anyone else."

"Awhh," the nurse hugged him one more time. "Thanks buddy, you're so cute."

"I'm not cute."

"Of course you're not," Ms. Rose chuckled and pushed Harry to an empty bench in the hallway. "Can you wait here for a while? I'm going to speak my mind to that doctor."

"You don't need to do that." Harry spoke, but his nurse only smiled.

"It's okay, just stay here." She picked up the folder and waited for Harry to sit on the bench.

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><p>It was finally six o' clock with Ms. Rose let Harry take a break in his room. He enjoyed the care and attention, but Harry knew that Ms. Rose wouldn't let him roam around the halls by himself. So when he sneaked a look at the manila folder, it was an opportunity not to grab.<p>

He looked at the closed-door leading to his destination, feeling scared and brave at the same time. His mind was becoming a contradiction on its own. He wanted to open the door and see if Kyle was alright. After that little discussion with his therapist, he knew that he had to talk to Kyle some day. While he couldn't do it at the cafeteria with Dr. Kawai there, this was another chance for him to talk with Kyle.

Letting out a deep sigh, Harry opened the door a few inches and watched through the crack.

Kyle was watching some cartoons with a bored expression. He was leaning against his bedpost with a pillow on his lap. Mussy red hair and half-lidded eyes made him seem he was about to sleep anytime soon.

'Maybe I should come later?' Harry was about to close the door when he heard a sudden shout. Startled, he widely opened the entrance and cautiously observed how Kyle's expression transformed to a happy one.

"Hi Harry! I didn't know you knew my room number. Did Dr. Kawai tell you?" The blonde kid greeted.

"Uh yeah, the doctor was really nice about it. Hey Kyle, are you okay?" Harry asked, standing only a few feet away from the edge of the bed. He shuffled both his feet, feeling a bit awkward.

"Yeah, I'm alright; I just had a headache." Kyle shrugged off the question and patted an empty spot near his legs. "Sit here; you look tiny from here."

"I'm not tiny!" Harry retorted, but climbed up the bed and matched his emerald eyes with Kyle's blue ones. He looked over for any injuries, careful of not making a scene to make his friend feel estranged. It was a common habit for him to check anything unusual in order for to avoid trouble. This force of habit helped him immensely when it came with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.

Seeing that his playmate wasn't wrapped in bandages or looked dazed, Harry focused his attention on the windows.

"So Harry, are you ready for another game of tag?" Kyle asked, twiddling his thumbs. It was a nervous gesture that Harry noted. He wondered if Kyle thought he wasn't going to play with him anymore after the seizure incident.

"Of course, but shouldn't you stay in bed?"

Shaking his head, Kyle answered, "Nah, I don't want to spend anymore time in this bed. It's so boring; I'd rather play with you!"

"…really?" Harry asked in a quiet voice, embarrassed by the proclamation. Hearing and knowing the answer was for him made Harry feel like the luckiest person in the world. He had a person that didn't stay away because Dudley bullied them. He had an open window in his sight and he knew that he wasn't going to let it close before him.

"Of course! You're pretty interesting!" Kyle grinned and Harry couldn't repress the emotions in his head and copied the smile. It was like a dream, his – dare he say it – _friend_ was alright and wanted to play with the skinny kid in an overgrown hospital gown, duct-taped glasses, and a messy hairdo.

"Oh yeah, Harry how did you even get in here?" his friend - he couldn't stop smiling at that - asked. The sunset glazed the room with a warm shade of orange and red, allowing both boys to know that night was approaching. "I heard that your nurse is kind of strict on these kind of rules."

"Well," Harry looked away from his friend's curious gaze. "I took a look at Ms. Rose's papers when she got distracted by something. It showed all the kids' room numbers and what time their check-ups were."

He heard muffled giggles and turned back to see Kyle holding his hand to his mouth. He scowled at the gesture and crossed his arms. "What else I could've done. I wanted to see you."

Moving his hand to his stomach, Kyle stopped his laughing and cheerfully said, "I'm sorry. But, I didn't take you as a sneaky person. Man Harry, you're like one of those ninja people I see on the telly."

"Shush, I'm just a natural." Harry lied; he didn't want to admit that his observation skills came from learning, not given. With Dursley's emotions described as mercurial at best, the nine-year old needed to make sure that he was on their best side.

"Anyways, let's go outside. The sun's still up in the sky." Kyle gestured to the window and jumped off his bed. Followed by Harry, they sneaked out to the hallway and to the fresh outdoors. Leaving with giggles, Harry inwardly smiled at his success to extend his stay and focused on catching his target, Kyle the phantom thief.

"Wait for me," he shouted and dashed off.

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><p>On the other side of the British isles, far from where the young Potter was reliving his life, a grand forest laid about. Beyond the dark and active forest, there stood a magnificent castle. It glowed almost ethereally as the lights reflected with the moonlight off the nearby lake. It was something to gasp in surprise as many children have done years before and now. All of them recognize the building as their new school and home: Hogwarts: School of Wizardry and Witchcraft.<p>

Inside one of its rooms, Hogwarts can find its headmaster sitting in his comfortable chair with his trusting phoenix by his side. His name was Albus Dumbledore, the famous wizard who defeated the evil Grindelwald and improved the overall status of Britain in foreign nations. He had the respect, the admiration, and curiosity from his fellow people. With all of this positive attention, Albus achieved his youthful dream of becoming the most powerful wizard on Earth.

Instead of reminiscing about his past, the headmaster was reading a complaint from the minister, Cornelius Fudge, who somehow heard of Harry Potter's injuries in his muggle household. It was an outrage as he stated in the paper. The celebrity who killed the vilest person in their history is now held in a poor hospital because of a mysterious fire.

The old man scoffed at the outrageous words and put down the letter. His phoenix, Fawkes, landed on his shoulder and nuzzled its partner. Albus rubbed its head and pondered on how to reply to the ridiculous politician. It wasn't his fault that the kid couldn't take care of himself. Instead, the blame should be on the muggle family, who didn't understand the meaning of blood wards and his request to be strict for the millionth time.

He shook his head as the memory popped up in his mind. He remembered the purple face of the uncle and his brutish attitude towards him. While Albus became the victim of being yelled at by plenty of his trusted members in the Order, he didn't want to be a fool listening to a simple non-magical's arrogant words. When that bulbous man told him that he was going to move his family somewhere far from Harry Potter, Albus had a difficult time stopping his laughter.

It's near impossible for a muggle to lose his path from a wizard when the magical world had simple tracking spells. With a swish of his wand, Albus tracked down the Dursleys to Majorca with all of their belongings in several days. He brought them back, removing any evidence of the strange fire and the muggle police markings. He didn't want the family to escape from his grasp again.

Now, it's been around two weeks and he had to bring Harry back in the blood wards. It was a safe approach for both sides as the muggles will gain protection while Harry will learn humility. He wasn't an evil mastermind like Tom, but he knew that a rebellious kid can never match to the standards of a willing one. Just to make sure that his strategy would work, Harry must stand the emotional abuse from his relatives and come to Hogwarts with the belief that he was a kind grandfather figure. Though the wards will drain the child of his spiritual energy, Albus knew that he can still defeat Tom with his guidance.

He took a quill and started to write a nonspecific letter back to the minister. Sealing it with the Hogwarts sigma and giving it to Fawkes, the phoenix vanished with a wall of fire. Albus leaned back on his chair, taking a lemon drop in his mouth to suck on in relaxation. He closed his eyes and reminded himself to take Harry Potter to his relatives at the end of the week. That would be plenty of time for the fake memories to settle in the people's minds and become reality.

'Now, let's see if the dear Weasley twins have done anything today." He said to himself and to the sleeping portraits on his office walls.

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><p><span><strong>Author Notes<strong>**: Yay, new chapter :D**

**Next one will be up next week? I promise, scouts honor. **

**I'm glad that there were so many reviews, favorites, and followers. It's the same feeling as winning a basketball match in my opinion. **

**Also, if anyone is confused, please feel free to PM me. I'm a new writer and school hasn't really helped me improve in writing except for essays. (Haha)**

**See you later!**


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